Chapter 131: A Lesson in Your Mastery

"Whoosh..."

Without a moment’s hesitation, Fang Xian swung his long spear in a diagonal arc. With a sharp whistle, the tip struck Han Jiahong’s wrist, forcing him to lose his grip on his own weapon. Before Han could recover, a sweeping strike from Fang Xian sent him flying from his mount.

"Swish..."

Seeing that Fang Xian’s attention was momentarily diverted, Zhao Yaozhong’s eyes lit up. He seized the opportunity to lunge at Fang Xian’s throat from the side. Had that strike landed, Fang Xian would have been either dead or gravely wounded.

"Neigh!"

Suddenly, the Fire King, which had remained calm until now, reared up on its hind legs. With a swift movement, it lashed out with a front hoof, parrying the attack while simultaneously kicking Zhao Yaozhong square in the chest, launching his body through the air.

"Crack, crack, crack..."

"Argh!"

The sickening sound of breaking bones echoed across the field. Zhao Yaozhong let out a shrill cry of agony as he soared backward, blood spraying from his mouth.

Fang Xian had displayed incredible power, instantly neutralizing all three opponents and unseating them. Had this been a real battlefield, they would undoubtedly have been killed. However, Fang Xian did not wait for the referee to announce the verdict. He leaped from his horse to reach the fallen Tang Yuyong, pressing his fingers against key acupoints on Tang’s body before feeding him a medicinal pill for his injuries.

The spectators realized then that Fang Xian was tending to the fallen. He moved to Han Jiahong next, treating him as well, before finally making his way to Zhao Yaozhong. While Tang and Han had suffered only minor injuries, Zhao Yaozhong was severely hurt. Fang Xian skillfully set his fractured ribs and administered a potent styptic and healing pill.

The crowd was reminded of Fang Xian's other reputation: he was the renowned "Divine Physician" of the Martial Capital. Seeing him heal the very men he had just defeated, any lingering resentment among his rivals seemed to vanish.

"My apologies for the heavy-handedness. I offer my deepest regrets," Fang Xian said, cupping his hands in a formal bow to the three men.

"Master Fang, your character is as noble as your skill. I am truly impressed," Tang Yuyong replied, bowing in return. Han Jiahong, though silent, also offered a respectful nod.

Only Zhao Yaozhong remained sullen. He said nothing, turning away to find the referees. Although Fang Xian had set his ribs, the injury would require months of recovery, effectively ending his participation in the remaining tests.

"After a comprehensive review by the examiners, Fang Xian is graded at the highest tier, 'Superior-Superior.' Tang Yuyong, Han Jiahong, and Zhao Yaozhong are graded 'Superior-Mid.' Wang Dongzhu, Liu Dongsheng, Gong Guoqiang, and Tong Zhaopeng are graded 'Superior.' The rankings for the remaining martial candidates are as follows—"

Shortly after the deliberations, the examiners announced the results of the mounted combat. Fang Xian had secured the top grade, adding to his "Superior-Superior" performance in mounted archery. With foot combat ahead, only the results of the military strategy exam remained uncertain. Fang Xian was confident that if he could achieve a "Superior" grade in strategy, he would stand a strong chance of securing the top overall rank, earning him the title of Martial Champion—a rare honor for one who had already achieved success in the civil examinations.

"Congratulations, Brother Fang! The title of Martial Champion seems firmly in your grasp now," Xia Zhenghong said, running over to offer his respects.

"And congratulations to you, Brother Xia. You achieved a 'Mid-Superior' grade here and 'Superior' in archery. You should have no trouble breaking into the top thirty overall," Fang Xian replied with a smile.

"I hope your words prove true," Xia said happily, as his goal was simply to place in the top thirty.

"The final test is foot combat. Just as before, candidates will be eliminated in rounds until the top ten remain," the chief examiner announced.

Military officials quickly oversaw the construction of ten raised platforms, each about a meter high and twenty-five square meters in size. Stepping off the platform meant immediate disqualification. Unlike the mounted test, which relied solely on spears, the foot combat allowed for short weapons—swords, sabers, hammers, maces, whips, and spears—ensuring every candidate could play to their personal strengths.

Many candidates selected their preferred weapons with confidence. Fang Xian chose a sword, as it was the weapon he had mastered most thoroughly.

"Fang Xian, don't think I'll lose to you just because we're using short weapons! Make sure you last to the end—I'd be very disappointed if I didn't get the chance to face you," Han Jiahong called out boisterously.

According to the rules, the order of the first round was determined by the mounted combat rankings. Fang Xian was seeded first and paired against the 194th-ranked candidate. The tests began with the lower-ranked candidates, as they had been granted sufficient rest.

Han Jiahong’s comment stemmed from the fact that they wouldn't face each other in the first round. As for subsequent rounds, the examiners would likely prevent the strongest candidates from clashing too early, preferring to weed out the weaker ones first.

Twenty candidates fought across ten platforms simultaneously. Some bouts were fierce, while others ended in seconds. Among the candidates were several hidden experts who, despite lackluster mounted combat performances, displayed formidable skills on foot.

By the fifth round, only thirteen remained. Compared to the final thirteen from the mounted combat, eight faces remained the same—Fang Xian, Wang Dongzhu, Guo Shunsheng, Liu Dongsheng, Tang Yuyong, Han Jiahong, Gong Guoqiang, and Tong Zhaopeng—while five new candidates from the lower ranks had clawed their way up.

Xia Zhenghong had been eliminated in the fifth round by Wang Dongzhu, but he was satisfied with his performance and confident in his top-thirty placement.

"Brother Fang, I've secured my spot in the top thirty. Now, it's all up to you to take the championship," Xia said with a lighthearted smile.

"Understood," Fang Xian nodded. He no longer felt the need to hide his ambition to claim the title.

In the sixth round, Fang Xian’s opponent was Tong Zhaopeng, a core disciple of the Xiaoyao Sect. At only twenty years old, he was already an elite-level fighter with remarkable talent.

"It was a pity we didn't cross swords during the mounted combat. I am honored to finally test my skills against yours," Tong Zhaopeng said, bowing.

By now, everyone knew of Fang Xian’s prowess; his ability to defeat three opponents at once in the mounted test had left a deep impression. No one dared to underestimate him, yet the competitive spirit burned as bright as ever in these young warriors.

"I, too, look forward to learning from you, Brother Tong. Please," Fang Xian said, holding his sword aloft.

The two lunged into battle, their figures darting back and forth like lightning, clashing with such speed that they appeared as blurred streaks of light. The sound of steel meeting steel rang out across the arena, echoing with every strike.